


Carbon Dioxide

by Lue4028



Series: The Most Dangerous Chemical [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 06:27:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2641508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lue4028/pseuds/Lue4028





	1. Chapter 1

John is combining the reagents for the diels-alder reaction they are scheduled to do that day. Occasionally, Sherlock ventures to the lab bench and they work side by side, but Sherlock largely ignores him. Sherlock extracts a sample from his distillation apparatus and dilutes in a NMR sample tube for testing. John is watching the pipet transfer with a sidelong glance, not meeting Sherlock's eyes, when the building's alarm siren goes off. 

People stop what they're doing pensively, and look at each other. Eventually, everyone is taking of their gloves and aprons and filing out of the lab.

"Are you coming?" John asks Sherlock, his hand on the exit door.

"Probability of a false alarm is 78%. I'll take my chances."

"Alright," John mutters and leans against the wall. Sherlock notices he's not leaving.

"I don't recall asking you to stay," Sherlock says coolly, barely civil.

"You didn't have to. I decided to stay. What does it matter to you?" John asks indifferently.

Sherlock glares. "Very little."

John returns his gaze unflinchingly with a terse, half-sided smile. Sherlock sneers and turns back to the hood to resume his work.


	2. Chapter 2

“Sherlock- Sherlock I can’t breathe…”

“What?” Sherlock withdraws and looks sharply a John, who his breathing deeply but ineffectively. “What do you mean you can’t-” Sherlock puts a hand on his own chest as he discovers he’s hyperventilating too. He feels anxious, panicky.

Sherlock moves past John, who stands back, resting one hand on the counter, bending forward slightly, panting. Sherlock makes a quick endeavor to cross the room to the window, but his legs fail him. He sinks to the floor in fatigue.

“Sherlock?!” John asks in alarm. Sherlock responds but his voice is all wrong and distorted. His breathing is now relaxed.

“John don’t come over here. Carbon Monoxide,” are his last words before he falls on his side and hits the floor, unresponsive.

 John stops breathing and goes to him. He turns his face, sees his eyes are closed and his face unmoving and relaxed. He glances at his indolent form, head to toe a few times, uncertain of what to do. Impatiently, he shifts Sherlock’s arms and torso over his back and shoulders the taller man’s weight. He crosses an arm around the back of Sherlock’s legs and stands, surprised that the desperate-attempt, last-resort of a move is actually viable plan. Sherlock’s weight has always been a cause of concern for John, but right now he’s extremely thankful for it.

He manages to make it back to their lab bench, which is oxygen deficient but not carbon-monoxide infiltrated yet, and rests Sherlock on the ground, leaning his back against the cabinet.

“Sherlock?” He asks weakly, hopefully. He shakes Sherlock gently, his hand on his shoulder. Sherlock’s eyes flicker open. John would breathe a sigh of relief if he could.

“Will you stand?”

Sherlock stands and helps John up with both hands, who is feeling weak on his feet. He pulls John out the nearest exit by the wrist. Sherlock takes a few steps toward their designated escape route, but realizes they are going against the oxygen gradient and turns around. They break into a sprint as soon as the air improves and they are able, swerving and backpedaling at each nook and corner, trying to outrun the wave of carbon oxides displacing the air. They’re audibly gasping for breath in and out of synchrony, muscles running on minimal fuel, the soles of their feet clamoring chaotically against the pavement. They run down the west wing corridor until it comes to an end by the stairwell, and enter the large, dark nuclear magnetic radiation room at the end. The screen of the PC desktop provides a sole light source.

John closes the door and falls against Sherlock, who stumbles back into the wall. They collapse in exhaustion against the wall, breathing heavily. Sherlock sinks to a seat on the floor, his back flush against the solidity of the wall. John’s legs give way and he follows in suit, falling to his knees above Sherlock.

“John… this looks a lot like..”

“I don’t _care_.”

“People might talk..”

“No-one is here. Stop talking and breathe.”

Sherlock sees Moriarty through the glass wall, sauntering down the hallway, swinging his keys around his index finger. Sherlock’s arms reflexively contract around John’s midsection, forcing him closer. John’s elbow bends more acutely as he’s pushed to the wall’s surface, his spine arcs under the pressure. John dislikes the inward force on his ribcage. He groans painfully, his pants rebounding off the wall against his face.

“Sherlock, _what_?” John denotes in annoyance. Sherlock realizes he’s squeezing John and relinquishes.

“Sorry. I was hallucinating.”

John opens his eyes and gazes down at the top of Sherlock’s head. John removes a hand from the wall. His fingers hover hesitantly next to Sherlock’s ear. He gently, delicately touches the side of Sherlock’s head. He cards his fingers through, grasping and handful of curls. He leans forward and submerges his nose in Sherlock’s hair. He listens to his breathing and relaxes. He smiles.

“What’s funny _now_?” Sherlock stares into blackness.

“You always,” John chuckles, “take my breath away.”

 “How is it you think of that as a good thing?”

“You almost sound righteous.”

 “Why does fear of death put you in a good mood?”

“I don’t know.”

“I know sometimes you’re only playing dumb. I’m catching on, John.”

John waits then says, “It’s what keeps me alive.”

“Oh.”

“Me too.”

“That and…”

“And what?” John lifts his face and looks down with affectionate eyes and a light smile, tilting his head at an angle.

Sherlock stares solidly at John. “Chemistry.”

John’s blank face indicates Sherlock has lost him.


End file.
